


i wanna dance with somebody (with somebody who loves me)

by lexa_lives_in_us



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alcohol, Beau is also a gay disaster, F/F, Gnomes, Hupperdook, Molly is the best wingman, Yasha is a gay disaster, beauyasha - Freeform, hour of honor, yashregard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-29 23:26:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15084065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lexa_lives_in_us/pseuds/lexa_lives_in_us
Summary: "You know, you should ask Beau to dance."orThe one where Molly is drunk af and wingmans for his two favorite ladies.





	i wanna dance with somebody (with somebody who loves me)

**Author's Note:**

> Don't you worry, I'm still writing "when everybody sees the rainbow", but I had this idea stuck in my head because of @superfrumpkin, so now here we are.  
> Some little fluff based on what happened in C2E24, The Hour of Honor.
> 
> Unedited.

 

“You know, you should ask Beau to dance.”

They are back in Hupperdook, once again. The mission for the Gentlemen has gone incredibly smoothly, and they have managed to free the Shuesters and reunite them with their kids at the same time.

The Mighty Nein are using the latter part of the mission as an excuse for being back in Hupperdook so soon, but no one is surprised when they see the group striking into the tavern for the Hour of Honor.

The gnomes welcome their heroes back with more alcohol and more food, and once again Caleb, Molly and Fjord get shitfaced in a drinking competition. Beau and Nott drink their fair share as well, but they manage to keep the drunkness to a decent level.

Jester is still recovering from the incredible amount of spells that she has been forced to cast, therefore remaining upstairs with Kiri.

And there Yasha is, surveying the room and making sure that her friends don’t end up barfing all over each other or getting robbed once again.

And it’s right as she’s leaning against the bar, her ale in one hand and her back to the center of the room where people are dancing, that Molly appears out of the fucking blue.

“You know, you should ask Beau to dance.”

Yasha nearly jumps out of her own skin, but manages to keep it together. She lowers her ale to the bar, as Molly’s words catch up with her brain.

Immediately, she feels warmth spreading across her face and around her neck. She prays the Stormlord she’s not actually  _blushing_.

“I don’t know how to dance.” And then, because she knows that the excuse won’t stop Molly, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Molly groans, way too loud to be spontaneous, and pats her gently on the cheek.

Yasha instinctively retracts, grabbing Molly’s wrist with her free hand.

“Yasha, Yasha.” He says, dramatically, shaking his head. “You have to live a little.”

He frowns and starts nodding, his earrings and his jewels jingling.

He points at where Beau is standing, on the other side of the room, arms crossed and eyes on Fjord and Caleb dancing completely out of rhythm. Her face is a mask with no emotions, but she perceives that someone is looking at her, because her eyes move toward where Yasha and Molly are, and her expression changes: she tilts her head and shoots a grin in their direction.

Yasha’s stomach somersaults at the thought that Beau is most likely just looking at  _her_.

“You’re hot.” Molly continues, grabbing Yasha’s arm and starting to shake it. “She’s hot. You have the hots for each other. It’s perfect, darling.”

Yasha closes her eyes for a moment.

Somehow, hearing Molly say out loud that he thinks she’s hot is more disturbing than pleasing.

“Mollymauk...” she sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Even if. I really don’t know how to dance.”

“Oh, sweetie. It’s not that hard. It’s basically just swinging from side to side and pretending you know what you’re doing.”

As he speaks, he starts moving from one foot to the other in demonstration, with the result of losing his already poor balance and almost crushing to the floor.

Yasha catches him from his shoulders with ease, quickly lifting him and placing him on the nearest stool.

“Yeah.” She chuckles, before letting the smile fall at the thought of herself and Beau. Chest to chest. Their bodies touching, warmth spreading...

“I really don’t think it’s a good ide-“

“HEY!”

Before she can even try to stop him, Molly has lifted himself onto the bar and has started yelling toward the other side of the room.

Yasha goes completely rigid, and although her brain screams to do something, to stop that idiot of her best friend, all she can do is watch in horror as Molly catches almost half of the tavern’s attention.

Beau’s included.

“HEY, BEAUREGARD!” Molly howls, a shit eating grin on his face. “YASHA WANTS TO ASK YOU SOMETHING.”

Yasha prays, both in Common and in Celestial, that some deity decides to open the ground right beneath her feet and swallow her.

She feels the same warmth of earlier, but amplified, as a blush spreads across face, neck and ears.

All she can do is grab her ale and stick her nose into the mug, hoping that Beau will just ignore whatever has just come out of Molly’s mouth.

The tiefling, way too satisfied of himself, starts to swing on top of the counter, soon joined but a bunch of gnomes of every gender and age.

“So. What did you wanna ask?”

Yasha chokes on the ale, starting to cough not so elegantly as she tries to breathe.

Beau immediately starts patting her back, a look of worry and amusement on her face.

“Wrong pipe?” She muses.

Yasha just nods, feeling - _knowing_ \- that her pale face must incredibly red right now.

“I’m sorry, uh. I didn’t wanna startle you.”

Yasha shakes her head, refusing to look at Beau, at those magnetic blue eyes and those  _abs_ , that Yasha always has such a hard time look away from...

“You, uh. You wanted to ask me something... or something?”

Yasha curses her best friend in every religion she knows, but she squares up her shoulders.

She can do this.

It’s not  _that_  hard _._

“I was wondering if you, uhm...” she begins, looking at the floor, crossing her arms on her chest.

She can do this.

“If you... if you knew how to dance.”

Yasha closes her eyes, pursing her lips and dragging the longer list of expletives she knows in her head.

Such a coward.

In front of her, Beau chuckles.

Not at all the reaction she was expecting, Yasha finally looks up.

Beau is watching the dancers in the middle of the tavern, a grin on her face that is different from all the other Yasha’s seen.

It’s softer, less strained, more sincere.

Beau blows one strand of hair away from her face, fixing it then with her fingers. It falls back almost immediately, and Yasha feels the strong and terrible desire to fix it herself, to keep her palm on Beau’s cheek, to grab her chin with two fingers and-

“I mean, I do, actually.” Beau shrugs, turning to look at her. “When you’re the daughter of high society people, you kinda gotta learn.”

Yasha feels her heart stop at how vulnerable and at the same time secure Beau looks. It’s something incredible, the way she carries herself, like she has all the confidence in the world, and although she looks all sharp edges, her eyes are honest, open and incredibly soft.

Yasha doesn’t say a word, and if it was anyone else, they probably would have left already. But this is Beau, and she is probably more awkward than Yasha was a couple moments ago when she scratches the back of her head and asks: “Do you... I mean, I don’t wanna assume or some shit but... uh, if you wanna, you could...  _we_ could... yenno, dance.”

Beau visibly swallows.

“If you want to.”

Yasha watches Beau reach out with one hand, the other still scratching nervously the short of her hair.

There’s a stalling moment, in which neither of the two moves, nor talk.

Yasha stares at the hand, and Beau stares at her.

Until Beau’s hand wavers, and Beau’s certainty fades.

“Uhm, yeah. Anyway. I guess I’m gonna-“

Yasha’s hand slaps so hard on Beau’s that both of them flinch.

“Yes. Dance. Thank you.” Yasha sputters.

Beau stares at their joined hands for a long moment, mouth agape, before looking up with a joyful grin.

All of Yasha’s embarrassment for her awkwardness vanishes at the sight of that smile, and she lets herself be guided through the mess and the noise until they find a square of the floor that is not being invaded by drunk gnomes.

Beau never lets go of her hand.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, lemme know what you think.  
> I don't have a second chapter planned, but if I get the inspiration, maybe I'll do it :)
> 
> Like what you're reading? YAY!  
> If you want, you can buy me a coffee! :)  
> ko-fi.com/lexalivesinus


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